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A convulsing mess in woman's clothes.

I shake,

 

I drip

 

drip

 

drip

 

 

down.

 

A convulsing mess

in woman's clothes.

 

Oh pretty little thing

You've gone and lost your precious ring

And with it all you desire

Has been lost into the burning fire

 

Flesh on bones, on muscle, on thought

All wrapped up and overwrought

Fellow wont you hold her tight

In warm arms wont you plight

 

I shake,

 

I drip,

 

drip

 

drip

 

 

down.

 

Salty, wet, silly girl

Given in to furl

Sobbing for boy

That takes away her joy

He doesn't seem to know

How much you hate

His willingness to go.

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Written by
lacs
American
Published
Mar 29, 2011
Lines·Words
31·97
Permission

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